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Jonathots Daily Blog
(3952)
It took Iz and Pal a good solid two minutes to figure out where they were when they woke up in the desert, and another good five minutes to negotiate what direction to roll, to untangle themselves from their cocoon.
It was already hot.
Sweat was beading all over their bodies, and after two days absence from bathing, odor was aplenty. After all, when stink is near, grumpy will appear.
“You roll this way and I’ll stay still.” Iz was already sporting some attitude.
Pal objected. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘this way,’ because you have no hands to show me. They’re stuck in the tent.”
Iz heaved a deep sigh. “Look at the direction my head is nodding.”
“Would that be roll towards your nod, or opposite your nod?” replied Pal with a bit of whine.
Iz was done giving direction. He began a series of frantic twists, turns, shimmies and shakes, until the tent ripped, and he slithered his way to the safety of freedom.
Pal was angry. “Now look what you’ve done. You ripped it. What good is a ripped tent?”
“What good are two guys trapped in a tent?” Iz said, standing to his feet.
Pal wiggled two or three times and stood up as well. “You stink,” he stated.
Iz rolled his eyes. “That’s good,” he said. “It was difficult to believe you were producing all the odor.”
They jumped at each other and commenced to wrestling, at first with a bit of anger, and then, as the heat took over, with more pure silliness. They finally fell to the side in choked laughter. Pal was gasping for air.
“Oh, yes, this is really smart,” he said. “When you stink, don’t have any water, it’s always good to wrestle, get sweaty and thirsty.”
“I have a little water left,” said Iz coyly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” shouted Pal. “Where is it?”
“I wasn’t holding out,” said Iz defensively. “I just didn’t know how to divide it. I don’t know when we’ll get water again.”
A quiet fell over the boys. How could they continue their adventure without food and water? Yet how could they ever go home without looking weak and stupid?
Iz considered. “Maybe your parents will bring some water.”
Pal shook his head. “It’s just my father. And as I told you, my father will never come here.”
“I really don’t want to die,” said Iz with a whimper.
Pal patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s just make a plan for the water.”
What followed was a rather in-depth discussion on the difference between a sip and a gulp. After finally overcoming the semantics, Iz and Pal determined that they had fourteen sips and eight gulps left—perhaps enough for the day, if they stopped wrestling and were not trapped in any more tents.
They tossed the ball back and forth and just talked as the hours passed. They saw no one. Perhaps no one saw them—unless lizards counted.
The day wore on and hunger pangs set in, with aggravation not far behind. Still, they focused on talking, living, loving and matters that concerned them as young boys.
But after a particularly long moment of silence, Iz presented a new topic. “Mine’s different,” he stated slowly.
“Your what?” asked Pal.
“It’s because I’m Jewish,” explained Iz.
“I know you’re Jewish,” said Pal. “But your what?”
“Think about it,” said Iz, lifting his eyebrows.
So Pal did. It took a moment or two, but he finally came up with the answer. “You mean circumcision,” he said proudly.
“So you know about that?” Iz was a bit surprised.
“Yes,” said Pal. “I guess that’s one of those many things that our religions fight about.”
Iz frowned. “Why do they make such a big deal about that?”
“Why do you think God wants you to do it?” Pal challenged.
“Why do you think God doesn’t want you to?” countered Iz.
“Geez,” said Pal. “I feel stupid even talking about this. Grown-ups make such a big deal about us not touching it or talking about it, or even naming it, and then they end up making it one of the big parts of religion. Which is it, Iz? Is it dirty, or is it holy?”
“I know what you mean,” said Iz. “I remember, in my house, I didn’t know what to call it. You know…what we’re talking about. Like, when I was talking to my Pada, how should I refer to that thing? So I decided to come up with a name, and he got really, really mad at me because I said the name out loud.”
“What was the name?” Pal asked with vigor.
“Oh, it was stupid,” Iz replied shyly.
“Even better,” said Pal. “What was the name?”
“I once found a pet snake,” said Iz. “And before Pada made me get rid of it, I named the snake Ulios.”
Pal frowned. “Ulios? What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” said Iz.
“Exactly,” agreed Pal.
Iz continued. “So once, in front of Pada, I made mention to him of my ‘Ulios’…”
Pal paused, letting the idea sink into his brain, and then burst into laughter. “My father was so nervous,” he said, “I mean, about discussing it with me, that we finally decided to refer to it as my ‘man-dilly.’”
Iz laughed uncontrollably. Gaining some breath, he cited, “It’s all so stupid. They tell us that what we feel and believe is the most important thing, and then they make such a fuss about… Well, you know. Ulios and man-dilly.”
Pal became serious. “Maybe that’s why things are messed up. If grown men are so nervous about such a simple thing, how do they ever expect to understand more important things?”
Iz took a quick sip of water. “I don’t care what you call it. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care if it’s circumcised. I would trade it all in right now for a big, cold frosty bottle of Coca-Cola.”
The boys nodded in holy agreement. Then they sat in silence, a bit uncomfortable over their discussion, but also wiser from what they learned.
The heat pressed down as the time passed. There was a great temptation to change sips into gulps, but amazing restraint was maintained. They breathed deeply, looking at the surrounding desert.
Never would they ever have such experiences again.
Never would friendship be so precious.
Never would it ever be so hot.
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Jonathots Daily Blog
(3849)
art by smarrttie panntts
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Jonathots Daily Blog
(3733)
In Luke the 7th Chapter, a Pharisee named Simon invited Jesus to dinner.
Why?
As the story rolls out, it becomes obvious that it wasn’t a “special” invitation. Jesus arrived to a very generic, all-male environment, believing that he was a special guest, but was ushered in to be seated as if he’s one of hundreds at a Golden Corral Buffet.
You see, Simon wanted to be “the guy.” He wanted to be that fellow who was open-minded enough to extend an invitation to Jesus. But at the same time, he was sure to portray that he was not getting on board with the Carpenter’s crowd.
Nasty politics. Insincere feelings.
So Jesus plopped down to have dinner, thoroughly ignored.
Except for one woman. She was a whore. Luke makes it clear that she was not an out of work prostitute, nor one who had decided to forsake her profession.
Matter of fact, we are led to believe that she had just come from the job site to see Jesus. She probably still had the smell of a man on her. She certainly had the look of evil to those religious men who had presumably gathered to consider the turn of some phrase uttered by a prophet a thousand years ago.
She brought a gift–ointment. She brought her tears, and she used her hair to dry those tears as they drizzled on his feet.
It was a sensual experience.
It was so intimate that the Pharisees, especially Simon, became infuriated that Jesus did not stop the awkwardness of the moment.
They whispered. “If he were truly a prophet, he would know what kind of woman she is…”
When Jesus realized they were critiquing the woman’s gentleness and mocking her right to be considered, he spoke up.
First, he asks Simon’s permission to speak to him. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t offer counsel where it is not wanted. He asks for the grace to share.
And then he explains the three essentials to reaching people–whether it’s for God or for business.
He tells Simon, “When I came here you offered me no water, you gave me no kiss and you provided no oil. Yet this woman has given me the water of her tears, has kissed my feet with her warmth and anointed me with oil she brought in her alabaster box.”
Water. Kiss. Oil.
All humans need all three of these.
We need water to be cleansed. We need water to drink. We need water to be refreshed, instead of having things withheld, leaving us thirsty.
Simon thought they were going to have a great conversation over dinner about their disagreements. Jesus said, “You don’t get it, dude. It’s about water. It’s about offering a kiss.”
Intimacy.
I, for one, am sick and tired of ministry that has no connection. It takes more than three or four scriptures being read aloud for us to feel caressed.
The human race has not failed. Rather, the messengers of God have settled for meetings in dark rooms to discuss minutia.
The woman gave Jesus a kiss and he said it was good.
There is no ministry without intimacy. If you don’t plan on looking deeply into someone’s eyes, drying their tears and hugging them, then quit. Save yourself the aggravation of performing religious duties that have become meaningless.
And finally, it was the oil–the oil of gladness, the oil of healing.
It touched Jesus.
How magnificent is it to know that you are a woman who has just risen from the bed of being with a lover, and worked up the gumption to come to Jesus’ feet humbly, admitting your confusion, and know that you moved him?
Ministry is not about theology.
Ministry is not about church.
Ministry is not about praise and worship.
It’s about bringing the water for cleansing, the kiss for intimacy and the oil for healing.
Jesus did not come to Earth to explain Heaven.
Jesus came to Earth so we once and for all could make sense of Earth.
*****
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Jonathots Daily Blog
(3712)
“He turned the water into wine.”
Let’s just stop and think about that. Jesus had a cousin named John, who took a Nazarite vow. No liquor.
A very popular religious cult of the time, the Essenes, also were teetotalers.
Even though many historians will note that wine was a common drink of the masses, it was often considered forbidden–actually uncommon among those who deemed themselves religious–especially if you were just starting a movement.
What were you trying to communicate? After all, water is the symbol of life–to such an extent that we often refer to “the water of God’s word.”
Why would Jesus care that a young married couple ran out of wine during their reception? What was that to him?
To me, the message is clear. Water is what you drink when you’re thirsty. Wine is what you select when you want to get buzzed.
A transition was in order. A New Testament was about to be unleashed on the world. What better symbolism than to make it clear that water–in other words, our lives–was meant to be wine, thus intoxicating?
No longer were we to merely survive, but celebrate.
It wasn’t an issue of sustaining our beings, but rather, imbibe by getting drunk on the Spirit.
You don’t have to go any further than the commands he gave to the servants, who were to set the miracle in motion.
1. “Fill it to the brim.”
Six water pots in all, holding at least fifteen gallons each. So we’re talking about ninety gallons of wine. This was not a gift to “finish up the party.” Rather, it was an inclination to keep the party going.
2. “Pour it out.”
Get it into people’s cups. Don’t display it. Don’t revere it. Don’t call it “holy wine.” This is drinking vino. This wine is for the purpose of people “rejoicing and being exceedingly glad.” No longer are our lives supposed to be watered down, but instead, juiced up.
3. “Make it the best.”
Jesus told the servants to take the wine to the governor of the feast, who sardonically panned, “Usually at these weddings they bring out the crappy wine at the end. But you’ve saved the best for last.”
What is crappy wine? It’s wine that is either freshly-squeezed grape juice, or so old that it’s almost turned to vinegar.
There’s a message here–we need to stop acting like we’re grape juice–pure and without sin–or that we’re turning into vinegar in our pews because we’re so soured by our life and our experiences.
Taste good.
Inebriate.
It was the message of Cana of Galilee.
You don’t start a revolution by walking away from a wedding feast, refusing to make wine over spiritual pettiness.
You create an international revival by being the one who has the sense, at the right moment, to put the “juice on the loose.”
*****
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Jonathots Daily Blog
(3445)
It had been a day of storytelling.
Launching out into a boat so that the audience on the seashore could hear more clearly, the young teacher, formerly from Nazareth, had shared great yarns about faith–three in particular.
Taking an ethereal subject, he translated it into the human and earthly. It was what he did best. He had no intention of having followers with heaven on their minds–not when there was still so much to do here on earth.
The first story was about a sower. The lesson was really simple. The seeds of hope, love, contentment, joy and even confrontation have to be sown–whether the inhabitants of Earth received them or not. You just never know what patch of soil might sprout promise.
Another story was about how to showcase faith. It really is not a private matter–it is something that needs to be shown forth, demonstrated, put on a candlestick so the light can fill the room.
And then there was that closing story that finished out the day. An inspiring one. “Faith is like a mustard seed…” In other words, it may be small, but its original girth does not foretell what it will eventually be. Don’t despise small beginnings.
At the end of the day this young teacher, Jesus, decided he wanted to go on a late-night sail across the sea to the other shore. It was a family aatmosphere, and so other folks who had been moved by the message decided to join him on the journey. Jesus had a big boat but those who followed him were in little ships. Exhausted, Jesus grabbed a pillow and headed to the back of the boat to get a snooze on the way across.
Then the atmosphere changed. (It nearly always does.) Into a quiet, peaceful night, a storm arose–a big one. The waves began to splash into the boat.The disciples were frightened. All the stories of faith dissipated in the presence of this threat. They screamed at Jesus, asking him why he didn’t do something. Why didn’t he care that they were dying?
Every teacher in the world will understand his feelings at that point. What is the purpose of sharing a lesson if no one applies it?
But Jesus had other concerns. This was no time to put the disciples to the test to see if they could survive their anxieties. Because, you see, there were other little ships. And if the big boat was in trouble then the little ships were in desperate straits.
So Jesus calmed the storm–not because he wanted to appease twelve frightened men in a big boat, but because he was concerned about the little ships.
Jesus was always sensitive to the little ships. Matter of fact, he made it clear that if we don’t take care of the “least,” we’re really not in fellowship with him at all.
We’ve lost our hearts for the little ships.
Storms come to our country and ravage the land and we scream to the government to help us rebuild our houses. Meanwhile, the least of these–the little ships–aren’t even getting water and food to survive.
I spent three days this year locked up in a hot house, sweating, my brain fried because I had none of the conveniences of which I was accustomed. I was fit to be tied.
In Puerto Rico, it’s been many,many days without food, water, cooling and relief.
Can we care about what’s happening to the little ships, or are we only concerned for our own losses and perishing?
That night, terrified disciples were saved because Jesus took care of the little ships.
I suggest that if we find the little ships in our lives, in the process of doing so, all the boats will be brought safely to the shore.
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Jonathots Daily Blog
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A. It’s really, really hard to find anyone who is sharp
B. Everything seems to roll down the alley toward the gutter
C. You can see Russia from your house
D. Responses lack passion, little inflection
E. Water ain’t curvy, stupid
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| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
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| 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | |
 | Jonathan on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
| Anonymous on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
| Anonymous on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
| Anonymous on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
 | Nolan on 1 Memory About Jonathan Richar… |
 | Maxine Mantooth on Drawing Attention … Dece… |
| Steve on From the Stacks … Octobe… |
| Maxine Mantooth on Scrambles … October 20th… |
| Maxine Mantooth on From the Stacks … Octobe… |
| Maxine Mantooth on Scrambles … October 13th… |
A voice writing in the wilderness
Jonathots Daily Blog 
